Magic's Path
by Aerial Bard
Summary: The years before Vanyel arrived at the colligium, when Tylendel first became a Herald Trainee. I finished it! I finished it!
1. 1

iDisclaimor: I don't own the Valdemar series or any of the characters (did you really think I did?) They all belong to the wonderful, talented Mercedes Lackey./i   
  
  
Herald-Mage Savil stalked through the halls silently. Her footsteps pounded wearily across the new wooden floors. The air was damp and chill, and she could almost feel another onslaught of the blizzard that occurred a few weeks ago. The council meeting had lasted well over midnight and she could see the first hints of dawn streaming through her windows. She glanced lazily at the two other rooms in the suite, Mardic and Donni's. Both were asleep soundly in their beds, Mardic half-sprawled with a book in one hand. She gave a wry half smile at the two forms and then crawled into her own bed.   
'I'm getting too old for these meetings,' she thought, pulling a blanket around her to block the draft that carried through the hall from the garden suite, 'I just can't be up till these hours anymore, especially-' she groaned audibly remembering suddenly what awaited her in the morning, 'especially when I have a new trainee coming in the morning.' She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Those worries could wait until the morning with everything else.   
  
The conversation around him stopped when Tylendel entered the room. He felt eyes watching him as the chatter slowly resumed. He caught snatches of it as her walked through the hall.   
"I heard he walked in half alive. Didn't even know what a Companion was until Gala explained it to him."   
"They said he's royal or noble or something."   
"Well I feel sorry for him, he's got Savil teaching him." One of the younger courtiers wrinkled his nose in disgust. Tylendel used all his training to keep himself from going white at the prospect of a teacher who was worse than the ones at the ones at home.   
: It's all right Chosen. I am here. I won't leave you.:   
Tylendel had to believe her. He had never found a person, or creature, more trust-worthy than she was, but he still wished she'd been allowed into the hall with him. He approached the doors trying desperately to ignore the conversations around him. He knocked timidly at the doors and a tall, fore-bearing woman opened them and stared down the bridge of her nose at him.   
"Tylendel, I presume?" she said shrilly. He nodded weakly. "Do you have an escort?"   
"Aye, no ma'am, just Gala." A short, stout man standing next to her said. She nodded, and gestured for Tylendel to sit down which he did gratefully, hoping to calm the shaking in his knees. The man gave a quick nod to the woman and left.   
"I am Herald-Mage Savil." She said in a no nonsense tone. "You will be under my instruction until you have graduated and received your Whites." She gestured to two shadows in the hall, and they shuffled in front of him. A short, fair skinned girl a few years older than him, he guessed, and a boy about the same age as her, who looked as though he'd been born and bred on a farm. "These are Mardic and Donni," she continued, "they are third year trainees and outrank you. They shall also be mentors when I am not around, and can help you if you need it." Tylendel nodded again. "When you are not in classes, you will be expected to help with kitchen or clothing duty, or spend time with your companion."   
Tylendel's eyes lit up at the mention of his Companion. 'Seems like a good one,' Savil thought dryly. Her first reports were that the boy was second in line for the heir at his keep, and usually that meant he would be a stuck-up prat. He was certainly handsome enough to play the part. Though only fourteen, he was already growing muscles that would only be improved with his training. Dark gold curls formed a halo around his head, and beneath that, warm brown eyes sparkled with intelligence.   
"Donni," she said, pushing her initial impression aside, she was never any good at judging people anyway, "help Tylendel work out his lessons, and then take him to Kayla to arrange a weapons-work class for him. Mardic, check to see which of the rooms Margret cleared out, Dominick's or Kirgan's, and put his packs in the empty one."   
The three trainees departed and Savil took a moment to relax on the couch, still exhausted from the previous night. She glanced at the Tayledras feather masks hanging on her wall. 'A break to visit them wouldn't be such a bad thing,' she thought remorsefully, 'if I could spare a moment.' 


	2. 2

Tylendel's muscles screamed at him as sweat ran down his face, but he kept his eyes steadily on his attacker. A movement- He ducked to the side, dodging the blade thrust at him. In reflex, his right hand pulled up, launching a blade, and narrowly missing his assailant's throat. She steeped back, and he gained on her. Quickly, she steadied herself, returning to Tylendel with a cold glint in her eye. Tylendel surveyed his surroundings without taking an eye off the intruder. 'This fight is over.' He told himself, as he cleverly leaped off bench, pushing his attacker down and holding his quivering blade to her throat.   
Weaponsmaster Kayla rose from the floor, declaring the round his.   
"Well done, youngling." She said smiling, "Only a month in training and already you've gotten a good hold on knife combat. Whichever Weaponsmaster you had back at Frelennye taught you well."   
Tylendel gleamed under the praise before Kayla sent him on his way back to the Collegium. Weapons work was one of the few things he was succeeding in at Haven. He was falling behind in his classes, realizing how sheltered he had been at home. Classes he thought he'd knew about: history, religions, literature; were at higher level than he could have imagined. But worse than that was the loneliness. Although he had been avoided from fear back home, he had always had Staven. Now the solitude weighed down on him. Even Mardic and Donni were too concerned in their budding romance to pay any attention to him. And the other trainees at court- Well, he wasn't desperate enough yet to sink down to the level of listening to their thoughtless babble.   
: Are you so alone Chosen?: A voice in his mind said.   
: No, love, never alone when I have you.: He mind-spoke back, his thoughts already brightening. It was true, despite his lack of human companionship, Gala was always there, a constant friend.   
: How have lessons been so far?: She asked sweetly. How could he ask for more than this genuine concern?   
: An utter disaster, as usual,: He said, his mind-tone revealing his grief. : I don't see how I'll ever get caught up with everyone else.:   
: Ah, which's why it takes so many years to become a Herald, sweetling. They have to cram all this information into your mind first.:   
Tylendel grinned before ducking into his next class, History. Bard Chadran frowned at him as he settled into his seat. 'Late again?' he thought, wincing inwardly. 'I'll never get the hang of this.'   
Luckily the lesson was on something he actually knew about. Affairs in Rethwallen has been of his family's concern for longer then he could remember, and some of the politics Staven and his father discussed had worn off on him. His pride drained back to him as he answered one of the Bard's harder questions correctly, but then slipped away as he realized he had earned the stares of disapproval from some of the students.   
His eyes caught on one of the Blue's students who was smiling cautiously across the room at him. Tylendel's look must have softened because he grinned broader, and Tylendel felt an unsettling jolt in his stomach. He looked away quickly, but it didn't help. The image of the attractive older boy was already ingrained in his memory. Short, dark locks framing his rugged face and deep-set brown eyes, and strong build set off his tall frame. Tylendel bit his lip to hinder the flush he felt crawling up his face, and turned quickly back to his notes for the remained of the class.   
  
Tylendel tossed restlessly in his bed, dreams haunting his repose:   
'An empty field, cold, and unfeeling lay in front of him. He shivered involuntarily, realizing he was wearing but the thinnest of tunics, and no shoes. The night air hung over him like a blanket, smothering him. Echoes of people talking danced around him, and the hair on the back of his neck rose eerily. He sensed someone behind him, turning to find only shadows.   
When he turned again a small, slim shape stood in front of him. He peered into the darkness, trying desperately to make out what it was. Without warning the shape launched itself towards him, a blur of scales and teeth. Though it was of no help, Tylendel recognized it as one of the Pelagir's wry-hunters: the Wrysa. Seconds before it tore into his flesh, a person- was it the same one he had sensed before? -dismissed the shape with a wave of his hand. Tylendel realized it was the boy who had smiled at him that afternoon.   
"It's alright, Tylendel," He said, his voice smooth and oily, "I'm here." Then he wrapped his arms around Tylendel, and he surrendered to his embrace…'   
  
Tylendel awoke sweaty and disoriented, his dream rushing back to him as the cool night air calmed his fever. Realizing what had happened in the dream he broke into sobs.   
"What's wrong with me?"   
  
  
  
A/N: More soon! I promise! 


	3. 3

A/N: I try not to apologize for my work (bad form, you know) but I don't think this next chapters is my best work. It gets better after this, though. I'll try to post the next chapters soon, but I've been incredably busy lately.  
  
  
The dream had returned to Tylendel on and off for the past week, nearly driving him mad with fear and desire. In Frelennye his father was always upset when he became too close to Staven, and often commented distastefully on same-sex pairings they saw while riding. Was this what he had become? A sin against nature itself? But he could not help himself. He watched the older student- Nevis, he had learned his name was- with a lustful passion, barely contained. But he knew he was doomed. Nevis had flocks of girls hoarding around him, and showed no sign of the plague Tylendel was afflicted with. So why- if not only to torment him -would Nevis glance over and give Tylendel a heart-wrenching smile? His heart burned.  
  
Tylendel was walking to his room from history when Nevis approached him.  
"I wished to compliment you on your observation in class, Tylendel," he said in greeting, "no one else saw the feud with Karse with such… insight as you did." He stretched out the words silkily, and Tylendel felt crimson flooding his cheeks in response to the unexpected compliment.  
"There's no need to blush, Tylendel, when you deserve the compliment." He continued, "unless there's something else that is causing you to…" he finished by running a lazy finger jaggedly up his spine. Tylendel shivered in pleasure.  
'No!' His thoughts screamed at him, 'You're giving away your secret!' But his reasonable side answered back, 'He already knows.'  
A smile crossed Nevis' face seeing Tylendel's reaction to what was his least subtle flirtation. His eyes closed half-lidded, and he turned to face Tylendel's conflicted face, and leaned close to him, pulling his mouth into a fiery embrace.  
"'Til next time, lover." He said simply, and walked away.  
  
Tylendel stared dumbly at Nevis' receding form before stumbling the rest of the way to the common room. Mardic and Donni were laying contentedly in each others arms, supposedly studying a text. He glanced at them briefly, as the stupor began to recede, and a flush replacing it. Has Nevis meant what he said? His stomach ached at him, and he went to the liquor cabinet to settle it. The couple paid him no heed, as they had learned to do.  
Lying back in his bed he contemplated his situation, turning over the same thoughts and receiving not solutions, before realizing he needed help.  
: Gala?: he mind-called tentatively.  
: Yes, Chosen?: she responded. Her patient words reassured him, and in a rush, his feelings and the events with Nevis came spilling out. He lay on his bed sobbing while explaining all that had happened.  
: It's alright.: she comforted when he was done, exhausted and mentally shaken from the bottled up emotions that were hidden for so long.  
: What can I do, Gala?: he asked, the tremble fading from his mind-voice.  
: Let him take the first steps, Tylendel. If he's truthful he'll come to you. If not…: The words hung in his mind long after she'd said them. What if it was all just a joke he was playing on Tylendel? He steeled his mind against it. 'No, this is real.'  
  
The following day Tylendel felt like a torn child. His heart wanted to run to Nevis, but his mind, and Gala, warned him against it. So he sat through classes, forcing back tears that threatened to slip out whenever he thought of what had happened, and trying his best to forget about it. But he had no distractions at night, when his fantasies wandered. He returned to the common room after his last class, dreading the rest of the day.  
"You have a visitor, Tylendel," Mardic said, eyeing the form on the couch suspiciously. Tylendel's heart leapt to his throat seeing who it was.  
"I told you there would be a next time," Nevis said sleekly, as soon as Mardic left the room. He cast a glance at Tylendel's open door, and walked inside, motioning for Tylendel to follow. He did, nervous for what would come, and for fears that Nevis would leave again, when he wanted- needed -this so desperately.  
Nevis closed the door, and attacked Tylendel passionately. They tumbled onto the bed, somewhere along the way, one of them pausing to blow out the few candles. And then, there was really no say in who did what.  
  
Tylendel awoke, his heart subdued from the night of passion he and Nevis had shared. He turned to his side, and found only empty blankets where Nevis had been. 


	4. 4

Tylendel searched the suite furtively for Nevis. His mind raced: "He probably just went for a breath of air, or a glass of wine." But it was to no avail. He was gone. He thought about asking Mardic if he had seen Nevis, but he burnt with embarrassment over what he'd done. So he abandoned his previous grudges and went to the main court.   
The air was heavy with perfume, sending Tylendel into vertigo. Courtiers who talked glibly silenced as they saw Tylendel, forming a wide circle in his path. Soon the room had quieted, leaving only one voice. One achingly familiar voice.  
"He invited me over on the pretence of studying for history, you know how he believes himself good at it. And when my defenses were down he…" Nevis paused, admiring the large flock of flock of maidens who had assembled around him, and hung his head in mock shame, "…he seduced me into his bed. I'm not sure if I will ever be the same," he added dramatically, "unless, perhaps, one of you lovely ladies is willing to take me and regain my manhood." He finished with a suggestive eyebrow raise.  
The color drained from Tylendel's face as he listened to the mendacity. Without notice, white-hot rage began to fill him, and he struck before he knew what he was doing. There was a sickening thud as his fist connected with the right side of Nevis' jaw from behind him. Nevis spun quickly in an attempt to counter the attack, but was still too surprised to do much. Meanwhile Tylendel threw in another blow, this time connecting to the silks of Nevis' shirt, his fist sinking below the ribcage. By this time, others had realized what was happening a made an effort to pry Tylendel off; some with persistent pulling, other with newly dealt blows. Tylendel fought rabidly, fending off the blows from either side before collapsing under the pain.  
  
Savil looked with weary eyes at the young boy lying in his bed.  
: What can I do, Kellan?: She mindspoke her Companion desperately. : Everyone deserves a second chance, especially trainees, but I'm ready to throw his one out right now. Starting a fight in the middle of the court because someone was popinjay pecking at him?:  
: His heart is in the right place Chosen, but it is also his heart that has led him to where he is now. In which case, what the heart and the boy needs most now is rest, away from him who has suffered against him. And being away would serve the punishment that need be inflicted.:  
: Are you suggesting I take him away from here as punishment? Suspend him?:  
: Precisely. Send him home until his ribs and concussion have healed. Maybe his heart and sense will have healed by then too.:  
Savil sighed. : I can't have a month of leave to ride with him back to Frelennye right now, and I don't trust anyone else to do the job; not with his injuries and current reputation.:  
: Gate him there. It will be a small journey of less than half a month.:  
Groaning, Savil agreed. Gating was not her ideal way to travel.  
  
Days from then, the morning was dawning bright and clear as Savil prepared to gate from the Temple grove. No one crowded near, save the green-bedecked Falen in healer's robes, and Jaysen to help her in preparation for the gate. Tylendel sat, barely conscious in Gala's saddle, his eyes drooping as well as his head.  
Savil took a deep breath and began to slowly construct the gate in her mind. She began to weave energy into a foundation for the gate while forming an image of a temple near Tylendel's keep that she had been to once during a border-watch. The trip had been one of her worst experiences, as travels along the East Trade road usually were, and she worked to keep her mind free of the negative thoughts she had associated to it. Instead, she concentrated on the smell of the air, which she had remembered distinctly as reeking with cattle dung, and the grain of the earth tilled, and plowed for the upcoming harvest. Her mental image grew stronger with all senses supporting it. Using her Mage-Sight she began to see threads of energy seeking out the place she described. She urged them on, by now feeling the drain on her store of energy. She fought the Gate to keep from losing consciousness and with silent explosion of light the Gate was built.  
She looked through the Temple door into a small town, built and managed by farmers. Wheat and grain blew silently in the brief wind, and a dirt path showed the rest of the way to Tylendel's keep. She rested a hand on Kellan to steady herself, and humbly asked Jaysen for a boost into the saddle. He obliged, and she wearily grabbed Gala's reigns along with Kellan's. They stepped into the Gate quickly, and Savil tried to hold her stomach down from the usual nausea of crossing a Gate.  
Without warning, the nausea erupted into a crippling sickness. The gate around them became distorted with crimson hues, and a bitter, coppery taste filled the air. Savil tightened her hold on the reigns involuntarily, and the picture of country Temple began to collapse and a new one took its place. And then, blackness.  
  
Tylendel felt the pain cutting into him as he struggled to open his eyes. The last he had heard was that Savil was Gating him back home on suspension. He had no idea of how gating worked, but couldn't believe that this pain was part of it. He won the struggle and opened his eyes. A man stood in front of him, looking stunned. Tylendel squinted at the man's face, knowing there was something familiar in it. But his headache raged again before he could make anything out, and he once again fell into a pain-induced stupor. 


	5. 5

Taredic Leshara stood in the center of his workroom, bewilderedly truing to figure out what had happened. A Herald-Mage and a trainee were collapsed near the door that he had been building a Gate into. He recognized the trainee as one of the Frelennye brats, Staven's twin who was supposedly mad. As for the Herald, well she was of no importance. He ordered the two beasts they rode in on into his stable, they were good show beasts if nothing else, and it's not like his hostages would need them.  
Hostages; the word felt good to his tongue as he repeated it to a servant, ordering them to be taken to his prison. The brat would be most useful, of course, as a ransoming tool to finally do what his father was unable to: take hold of the Frelennye keep. He was a better tool than what he was planning to use when the spell had gone wrong. A swarm of krandis would have devastated the Frelennye crops almost instantly, but would do little to settle the feud, merely adding a victory to his side.  
But these hostages would cause an immediate yield to his side; putting him in charge of the keep without the constant annoyance of father and older brother Evan. Even the Herald had her uses. The Heraldic Circle at Haven wold pay dearly to regain one of their most seasoned members. And if not, her life would release enough energy to supply him for any other projects he had in store.  
Taredic grinned. Once he ruled Frelennye he could go on to own enough land to equal his father. No one could laugh at him then…  
  
Tylendel's headache subsided after what seemed like years, and he was able to sit up a little, gasping from the pain in his ribs. He waited for his head to stop swimming before taking a look at his surroundings. It was a cold, dank room, reeking of sweat and blood. He looked at the bloodstained walls, and he heaved, causing another burst of pain in his ribs as he emptied the contents of his stomach.  
Sweat glistened on his forehead from the effort, but it was worth the pain as his stomach began to calm. He found Savil still unconscious on the ground next to him. He briefly remembered Jaysen teaching him about Mages becoming sick after using excessive magic. He debated waking her up for a ladle-full of water, but decided to let her be. She needed her rest.  
His next concern was Gala, and he mind-called her franticly.  
: I am here, Chosen.: She replied, her calming mind voice soothing his fears. : I am in a stable. You are in the dungeon of Taredic Leshara's keep. You Gated here by accident.:  
: What? - How?: He stumbled over his mind-speech. Taredic Leshara was the son of Wester Leshara, his mother's murderer, though it was never proven. Being in the same area as the man made his blood boil with rage, especially after seeing what had taken place in this dungeon. His mother was not the only one murdered by the hand of this family.  
: Dearheart, you must stay calm. We need to escape. He will use you to extricate the settlement he wants from Staven. He's almost as mad as his father, love. You cannot fight him.:  
Tylendel saw the sense in her argument, though he didn't like it. He would kill Taredic Leshara for the pain he had inflicted on his family, and not think it an offense. But he remained calm, if only to appease Gala, and thought carefully.  
: We can't do anything now. Savil is still knocked out, and I won't leave with out her.:  
Gala agreed, : No, we must wait a few days. Taredic won't try anything until he can contact your family and the Heraldic Circle. We have until then to plan an escape.:  
: Will you be alright until then?:   
: I am fine where I am. Taredic doesn't know our intelligence, and thinks us as rather well trained show horses. If he wishes to keep us for display, neither Kellan nor I will be harmed.:  
: That's a relief.: Tylendel spoke as he noticed Savil stirring. : Stay safe, love. Savil is waking.:  
Tylendel went to the water bucket and poured himself a drink before filling a ladle for Savil. If Jaysen was right, she would be feeling worse than he did.  
She opened her eyes wearily, and searched around. Her eyes caught on Tylendel as he kneeled beside her.  
: Drink this teacher, it will soothe the pain.:  
She sat up, painfully, but crossly. : My pain? I've had worse. Where are we, and why are you using mind-speech?: She demanded.  
: Gala said we're in the prison of Taredic Leshara.: he mind-spoke, and she Felt the barely suppressed rage at who she knew as his family's enemy. : We being guarded, so I don't trust talking out loud. But he has no way to shield or over hear mind-speech.:  
: True.: She said, then paused. : Do we have a way to get out of here?:  
: Gala's working on it,: he replied, : but we wanted to wait until you were more rested. We shouldn't be in any harm at the moment. Taredic is trying to ransom me to my family and you to the Heraldic Circle, but I he can't-:  
: I know damned well what he'll do if he can't. This dungeon reeks of blood-magic, and I'm well worth the possible retaliation in death energy. And you're right about my resting. I feel like I've been dragged through the nine hells and back. But what about you? You're the injured one.:  
: I'm recovering all right. I'm not dizzy when I stand anymore, and my ribs are barely hurting me.:  
: That's good. The faster we heal, the sooner we can leave here.:  
  
The door opened and Taredic strolled in, smugness dripping from his smile.  
"Well, my hostages. I see you have woken. It'd rude to walk into someone's house uninvited and unconscious." He laughed, being the only one who thought it funny. Then he sneered, seeing that there was no response to his witticism. Anger rose in him, and he called a guard. "Kill the old one, Haven refuses to negotiate for her. Bring the brat to me, we can torture him for information."  
The door closed solidly, and the Herald and trainee stared at it.  
: Chosen, I heard. Kellan and I think we can escape from here tonight.:  
Slowly, they formed a plan. Tylendel only wondered if they could pull it off. 


	6. 6

Tylendel silently turned the key in the lock; highly aware that any sound could alert the guards of the missing key he had fetched from them. Savil almost held her breath watching him as the tension built. After years- so it seemed- the key turned into place and the lock opened with a quiet click. He slid the gate open, wincing at the rusty grate it produced, and scampered out the door. Savil followed quickly after heading towards Taredic's workroom, where they could Gate out. She recoiled at the thought of building another Gate, but if they escaped on foot-well, horseback, even with the Companions pace, it was too likely that Taredic would follow them. As she prepared her reserves she watched Tylendel through their mind-link.  
  
Tylendel hurried toward the horse stables, knowing he had precious time before Taredic or one of the guards would look into the cell and find them missing and in the middle, the culprit key that Savil had insisted he leave behind because of its weight. He rounded the corner and stepped out the door and into the fresh air. Silently, he thanked the Gods that most of the keeps were built alike, or he would have no idea where he was going. He saw the stables ahead, and darted out into the daylight, wishing that they had the luxury to do this at night. Gala alerted him that there were no guards around, and he closed the door of the stable in a rush, quickly un-harnessing Kellan and Gala and leading them out the door. Unfortunately, they had to walk through the hallway at a tediously slow pace, lest the Companions hoof beats warn the guards of their progress.   
A heavy door with bars was the last room before the stairwell, and Tylendel waited by it as the Companions scurried up the steps. The Companions urged him up after they were close to the top, but Tylendel was distracted by the sound of screams coming from the room behind him. His small Gift of Empathy could sense the pain within the room.  
: Hurry, Tylendel, I need to start the Gate,: He heard Savil say impatiently.  
: Savil, His-His servants are kept in here. I have to save them!:  
: There's no time, 'Lendel. We have to go.:  
But Tylendel had already made up his mind, : I'll be there soon.: He told Savil, ignoring her vexation, and setting his mind to Fetching the key ring he had unlocked the prison gates with. Finally, he felt it in his hand, and he turned the lock, freeing the servants and nearly passing out from the reaction headache of using his Gift twice in urgent situations.  
  
Savil didn't waste any time after Tylendel's last Mind-speech, and quickly left the workroom. She had enough Foresight to see that any distractions would be a danger to them. Luckily, Kellan had the same foreboding feeling, and met her halfway.  
: Something's wrong.: Kellan Mind-spoke franticly, : I haven't gotten any word from Gala, and they should have been here already if all they did was open the door.:  
Savil left Kellan at the top of the stairs, and hurried down, arriving at a locked door. Something was definitely wrong. She saw the keys that Tylendel had Fetched next to the door, and she hurriedly unlocked it, pushing open the door to a ghastly scene.  
Taredic had Tylendel forced against the wall using Mage-will, and the bloodied bodies of several servants who hadn't been able to escape huddled against one of the walls. Taredic's eyes had an insane glint in them, when he turned to face her. Quickly, she summoned a lightning bolt, intended only to disable him if successful. But he refracted the blow, and called the lightnings down on her. Her shields shuddered against the attack, and weakened. He noticed the cracks that were appearing in her shields, and sent a bolt of Mage-Energy to blast at the weak spots. The pain it brought upon her blinded Savil, and she knew she couldn't fight another attack. Her duty to protect Tylendel and all of Valdemar from this monster over rode any protest, and she knew that the only way to stop him would be to call a Final Strike. Grimly, she pulled the energy from herself and set up the spell.  
A sudden movement distracted her. Tylendel! He had been freed from the wall when Taredic had turned and had recovered enough to push Taredic away from her. Savil disabled the spell she had started, realizing that with Tylendel's help, she could beat Taredic, and live to tell the tale. She prepared a fresh bolt of lightning, and hurled it at Taredic. He winced in pain, but before she could ready another blow, she fell victim to her loss of reserves. She nearly fell from lack of energy, but Tylendel knew what to do. Using his half-trained resources sent a powerful blast of Mage-Energy out, and Taredic crumpled, defeated.  
  
A few candle-marks later, Tylendel's reaction headache began to wear off, and he felt capable of functioning again. Guards had escorted Taredic off, and for once Tylendel could care less about what happened to him, as long as he never saw him, or heard of him again. Savil was already up, he guessed she was more used to regaining energy than he was.  
: Get moving,: he heard the friendly voice of Gala say, : Kellan says Savil wants to get back to the Collegium as quickly as possible.:  
: So I'm not going home?: he replied, puzzled.  
: You're healed aren't you? And Savil needs to train you quickly, now that you've learned how to use your Gifts.:  
Tylendel almost danced in delight. As much as he would have loved to see Staven again, he would rather be at the Collegium, than have to endure the stares at court. Interrupting his thoughts (and his process of getting dressed) Savil walked in, ignoring his blushes of modestly as he quickly pulled on a grey tunic.  
"I'd like to leave within a candle-mark," she said firmly. : We'll need to ride back, since I don't trust myself to Gate again.:  
He nodded, and she sobered for a moment. "Tylendel, I wanted to thank you, not only fore saving me back there, but for rescuing those servants. Those are the real qualities that make a Herald. I am proud to call you my protégé."  
He held back tears, and she smiled. 'Yes, I made some good choices with this one.' She thought. 


	7. Author's Note

From The Author--  
  
Well, thanks for putting up with my first Mercedes Lackey Fic. Yay! I think after this I'll go back to working on Hey Arnold fics, they're easier, and much less complicated! Just Kidding. I am already working on a new Fic (with my own characters this time, mostly) which should be out soon. Yes, the chapters are longer. I didn't realize how short my chapters were until I put them on here. So stay tuned, and thanks for reading! 


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